


Re-learning the basics

by orphan_account



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: CuriousCat Request, Ficlet, Gen, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Vergil does Not know how to People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 21:42:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21435154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After many years in Hell, Vergil has forgotten how to act in civilized society. Yeah, helooksall prim and proper, but he's only just learned how not to bite total strangers.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	Re-learning the basics

**Author's Note:**

> Original ask on CuriousCat that started this whole thing off:
> 
> i scrolled through your twitter a bit and saw something that made me think:  
I want canon Vergil to only look like he's all put together and the 'refined' twin, but actually he's a feral little bastard because he was in Hell for so long and forgot how to People.  
Vergil reads poetry, sure, but he will hiss and bite if you try to take the book from him  
People think he's all quiet and mysterious because he's brooding and thinking all sorts of deep things, but really he's just thinking about knives.

Vergil looked up only briefly from his collection of T.S. Eliot poetry to see who was talking about him. The coffee shop was not an ideal place to read, but Dante and Nero insisted that being around humans might help him remember how to be one, as well. Even as V, his mindset had been... different. A result of so much time spent in Hell, or so Dante theorized.

It was a group of women — Vergil had a difficult time judging their exact age, it had been so long since he'd had a need to — making glances at him and discussing how 'mysterious' he looked. Speculating about what he'd been thinking of.

In truth... he'd had trouble focusing on the poetry itself. The scent and movement of so many humans around had Vergil tense, trying to **not** focus on how their blood might taste or how easily even his small fangs would tear through their flesh. Fortunately, he was restraining himself rather admirably. Ignoring the attention of wayward humans except when necessary to order food and a nice latte was at least getting him more used to their presence.

So he went back to ignoring those women, or at least trying. Vergil even managed to read a few lines, though the initial few escaped him once his eyes lit on a certain set.

_And through the spaces of the dark _  
_Midnight shakes the memory _  
_As a madman shakes a dead geranium _

The grip around his latte mug tightened and threatened to crack the ceramic handle. That was too close to home, for some reason. Perhaps he should finish his coffee and leave, go back to the quiet and solitude of his brother's rundown home-slash-office.

Footsteps approaching his table almost didn't mean anything to him, until a hand reached out towards his book. Vergil's eyes immediately snapped up to the intruder, fangs bared in a warning hiss. The woman, likely one of the ones who had been discussing him, took several steps back. "Okay fine. Be that way, asshole," she muttered, going back to her group.

As Vergil finished the remainder of his latte in large gulps despite the still-burning heat of the liquid in his mouth, all he could think of was that if his brother and son allowed him to have weapons during his public outings, he definitely would've wound up stabbing that woman's hand. At least this time he hadn't _bitten_ anyone.

Small improvements.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so, I've got a [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/LadyLavenderFic) where you can send in small requests and I might write them
> 
> Poem excerpt is from _Rhapsody on a Windy Night_, obviously by T.S. Eliot.


End file.
